


Getting the Band Back Together

by Queen_Nymeria



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, F/F, Femslash, Lovely Gay Shenanigans, Nearly Naked Make Out Session, Rough Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 15:44:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7058782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_Nymeria/pseuds/Queen_Nymeria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Infighting had broken up the band years ago, but now they're back and better then ever. This time around Lena Oxton is the lead singer, and she's trying to win the biggest battle of the bands yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting the Band Back Together

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a self-indulgent AU in which Overwatch and Talon are competing bands. Cheers!

   Shadows grew in great shapes and sizes, painting the roads and sidewalks with caricatures of their original form as the sun ducked behind the horizon. The sleepy afternoon experienced an extensive metamorphosis as the evening took over the city. Soon the crackle of electricity hummed through the air as the blinking street lamps came to life. But the swell of voices intermingling with each other almost overpowered the rest of the natural sounds of the night. The beck and call of the enveloping darkness brought many. People of all sorts found their way out into the evening, each looking for their own version of entertainment. Some were looking for the newest films. Some were looking for the newest fuck. But one night stands and low budget movies weren’t the only happenings in the city.

   A bustling group of people congregated outside of a large building that pulsated a bass tone so low it resonated within your chest. But once past the threshold the sound increased exponentially. No one needed perfect hearing when some of the best bands in the world were competing in an once in a life time showdown that was guaranteed to melt faces and incite riots. The swath of people outside mirrored the masses inside as everyone lost things like their wallets and sense of personal space. There was hardly any standing room left. Bodies packed the area before the stage as everyone got close enough to know what type of deodorant the other was wearing. Not a single soul minded, as the excitement and readiness for the concert kept tempers from flaring over stomped toes and accidental groping.  

   Techies flooded the front as they performed soundcheck with a few miscellaneous band members, a few stray hoots and hollers accompanying each arrival to the stage. Off to the side a team of bartenders did everything in their power to keep the drink flowing as the wait continued on. Everyone was in overdrive. Crews worked faster, bumped shoulders, narrowly avoiding full on collisions in a mad dash to complete their allotted task for show preparation. 

   Lena Oxton was among those running around back stage. Even though she wore the mantle of performer, she didn’t let that stop her from lending a hand to the poor sods that had to set up. She carried band merch, tuned guitars, and had a smiling face to soothe all of those who wore the opposite expression. Stress was downright palpable back stage. It was to be expected as roaming band managers with tapping foots were enough to send the grunt workers scurrying.

   In a moment of down time Lena eventually found herself back with her band, one of the lead contenders for the evening, The Heroes. Once upon a time they were a household name, stars on the rise with all the glory and accolades befit the rock legends they were becoming. But in a classic tale of hubris, the golden age didn’t last very long. Infighting and drama broke up the band and all that they had left was a name. A name that a few old members picked up, dusted off, and handed to a few new hotshots on the scene. Well, a few of the oldies had stuck around to give some credence to the name.

   Jack Morrison sat with his back pressed against the wall, clad in a suit and looking like he sorely needed a glass of whiskey in his hand. Nearby, McCree actually did, but sharing wasn’t one of the fundamental tenants that guided his moral compass. In actuality his moral compass had been lost altogether a few concerts back. But even if the bass guitarist found a new personality and offered a glass, their manager was straightedge. Built from all the moral fibre that the others lacked. Even when Morrison was front lining the band himself, he never slipped, never indulged in the drinks and drugs. McCree always teased since there would be more for him, but Morrison now channeled his intense focus into reforming the band. 

   On the other side of the room Lucio laid on the couch, arms sprawled back as he was trying to rescue his drumsticks from the clutches of their guitarist Zarya. Sound equipment spilled from the backpack near his feet as he could never go anywhere without his precious mixing materials. He was a talented disc jockey in his free time, but it didn’t take much convincing for him to stick to percussion for an opportunity to play with The Heroes. Zarya joined without a seconds hesitation as well, more then ready to go on tour with the well known band. It wasn’t as if she hated living in the middle of nowhere, she just wanted to bring her sound to the rest of the world. But their last member, who was off to the side reading sheet music she already knew, had been the only holdout.  

   Fareeha Amari came from such a long line of talented musicians that it would take her a considerable amount of time to list them all, had she been in the mood to gloat. Despite a storied history, she didn’t feel compelled to revel in fame that her family name provided. She was grounded. Instilled within her was a passion for music and a desire to honor her family’s legacy, but she would accomplish that task on her own terms. Joining up with the resurrected band that her mother was previously a member of, certainly wasn’t the idea Fareeha originally had about rising to stardom. It took far more convincing to get her to join, but it was worth the effort. Fareeha’s skills on a keyboard basically blew people away. 

   A techie ran by with no intention of stopping, calling out names and times that bands simply **had** to be ready by. He banged on closed doors, shouting as loud as he could over the soundcheck to make sure the message was received. Sure, there was an official list of performance times, but band members lost their copy so fast they had to be reminded, constantly. Upon hearing their name Lena dug her nails into her palms, balling them up into excited fists. She leaped from her seat and landed near Zarya, punching her arm in an attempt at hype. 

   “Are! You! Ready?!” Lena screamed as she accented each word with a hit. She almost fell over as the whole room responded instead, a wild cheer that shook them all. They were ready to bring the band back together.

  

* * *

 

   The end of the concert was quickly approaching, a fact that excited and saddened many. The crowd was strung out, erratic, charged like a live wire with the adrenaline from the concert. They didn’t want the rock and roll high to end. But the performers were on a different buzz. They wanted to know who the two finalists were. The top contenders for the night were The Heroes, and some hard rock group called Iron Talon. Well, the last band to play could potentially pull an upset, but that was yet to be seen. Once the final two were known, there would be one more epic showdown to be scheduled. 

   Lena was again helping out the techies as she watched over instrument storage, letting the guy who was previously on shift get a chance to finally see the show. Watching over inanimate objects that belonged to semi-famous people was only fun for so long. It wasn’t completely terrible though, as the techies had dragged an old couch over so there was at least something comfortable to sit on.

    She absentmindedly chipped at the polish that covered her nails, but her attention quickly moved to the curtains that parted nearby. The lack of lighting backstage only showed a silhouette, but Lena instantly knew who it was. Intimidation seeped out of Amélie Lacroix, the bass guitarist of Iron Talon, like reaching tendrils. Her dominating height and icy gaze stopped many in their tracks, Lena included. The other woman’s gaze found her’s in the faint darkness and just about froze her solid.

   “ _Bonjour_ Ms. Oxton,” Amélie said as she approached, heels scarcely clicking against the hard wood. Her presence was so silent, so different from the force she exuded on stage. “I wanted to come by and offer congratulations for such a wonderful performance.”  

   “Y-Yeah, right back at ‘cha.” Lena replied bashfully as Amélie suddenly closed the distance between them. 

   She would be offering more then just congratulations it seemed. Amélie’s hand reached out in a flash, tugging, pulling Lena by her short locks into a kiss. It was filled with a fire that the rest of her frigid exterior did not portray. She straddled her hips in a fluid movement, pinning Lena down against the worn couch. She couldn’t get up, not that she wanted to. With each passing moment the nervousness melted away, and Lena soon responded in kind. She had been hesitant at first simply because Morrison was always harping about them being public figures or something, and how their personal relationships mattered. Well Lena was a big girl, she could kiss who she liked. Her hands then brushed past her jacket, pushed up her shirt, and gripped the soft skin of Amélie’s waist. She started to grind her hips against Lena, getting faster as she increased the friction between the two of them. 

Amélie then broke from the lengthy kiss to move down her jawline, placing sharp love bites along her neck without mercy, without remorse. Lena sucked in air through her teeth as Amélie nipped and bit her skin, rolling her head back as she took it all in. Amidst the cloud of lust that was slowly taking over Lena's mind, she suddenly realized there was a faint figure moving in the distance. She tried to focus, but the only real distinction that she could make out against their dark clothes was a faint white skull bandana across their face.

   "Eyes here," Amélie whispered as she cradled Lena's jaw and turned her head back towards her. Lena's breath hitched in her throat, caught somewhere between a gasp and a sigh as she took in Amélie's nearly bare chest. She had tossed her jacket to the side and undone the buttons of her shirt when Lena had not been paying attention. Not willing to loose another second Lena surged forward, placing love bites of her own along the swell of her breasts. Once hand was placed along the curvature of her ribs in order to help Amélie keep balance, while the other ran up her thigh. Lena let her fingertips teasingly brush along her hips as she moved both her hands around to her back. Still working on darkening the hickeys, Lena attempted to rid Amélie of her bra when the last band started to play. 

   It started off like any other rock set, the clack of wooden drum sticks setting the count before the rest of the band came in afterwards. But the sound was distorted, not complying in the way the band had originally intended. Like a dog that wouldn't come to heel, the sound was running amok and taking them down with it. To the untrained ear the problems weren't that noticeable, but bands off to the wings were cringing. Lena could tell the overdrive pedal wasn't working for the electric guitar, and the mic of the lead singer was just a touch softer then the music. Suddenly the singer sounded weak against the cascade of other instruments. There would be no way in hell that the last band could clinch the spot of lead contender. But, it all made sense. 

   Lena narrowed her eyes as she grabbed Amélie's shoulders and threw her down against the couch, eyes full of rage as she knew it had been another member of Iron Talon messing with the instruments. It was all a perfectly orchestrated plot in order to secure their own position, and Lena had been nothing but a cog in their well oiled machine. She would have been able to identify the culprit had she not been so easily distracted by a pretty face.

   “Why!? Why would you do this?” Lena shouted in anguish, to which Amélie only laughed. The laugh itself might as well been a slap to the face, as it was clear how Amélie truly felt. Emotions crashed over Lena like an inescapable wave, confusion and surprise paramount among them.

   “ _Adieu, cheri_.” Amélie replied as she grabbed her, kissing her one more time before she kneed her in the hips. Throwing her off balance, Amélie removed herself from Lena's grasp and disappeared into the darkness of backstage. A metal door creaked down the hall, and a squeal of motorcycle tires shot through the air. 

   Lena was left all alone, reeling from the events as she laid on the ground, defeated. She searched for answers in the empty space that Amélie had previously occupied, but found nothing. It took her time to collect her thoughts, and broken pieces of her pride that Amélie had smashed to bits with her deception. But eventually she knew that she was not in fact defeated. Far from it.

   The Heroes would put Amélie and the rest of Iron Talon in their place. There would be one more battle to come. 


End file.
